


A Slight Predicament

by m1kumeeks



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch, F/M, Miniseries, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m1kumeeks/pseuds/m1kumeeks
Summary: You find yourself in a dangerous place in a mission and need a little help.[tumblr commission]
Relationships: Jesse McCree & Reader, Jesse McCree/Reader, Jesse McCree/You
Kudos: 28





	A Slight Predicament

The entire situation was ironic; both the instantaneous conclusion of the fight and the prospect of death. All it took was a blind shot in the dark - literally, and he was dead. At least physically - who knew how long she would still shudder at the thoughts of her former captor and longtime foe - all of her psychological damage wouldn’t amount to anything, however, if she didn’t manage to survive.

Lurching forwards, she heaved her body towards the dropship, hauling the limp shape of the incapacitated recruit along with her. She didn’t know how much blood she was losing, but her breaths were shallow and rapid, vision blurring. On wobbly legs, she pulled her weight with momentum, the metal walkway of the shuttle thudding dully under her dragging footsteps.

Her knees buckled as soon as she made contact with the interior platform, head spinning from the loss of orientation. It was hard to determine how much blood she had lost due to the monotone black color of the uniform, but it had already soaked through her layers and begun to drip onto the floor. Head stacked like a bowling ball on her shoulders, she pitched forwards.

“Easy.” A warm body steadied fall, arm unintentionally wrapping around her waist. She lurched at the contact, breath hitching as a stabbing pain rattled through her abdomen from her broken ribs and the open wound below.

McCree’s face paled as he felt the warmth and stickiness of her blood on his arm, unaware of the extent of her blood loss before. Frantically, he leaned her against the wall, allowing her body to rest on the floor without further injuring her.

“Fuck. You’re bleedin’ a lot… j-jus’ stay awake for me, okay?” he stammered, unable to mask the nervousness in his voice as he sought to apply pressure to wherever - whatever he could.

She could only just acknowledge this, vision blurring and eyelids sinking down like a vignette on a rapidly-fading photograph. With her wavering consciousness she scrambled to find the small device, fingers tripping as she fished it out of the pocket.

“Reyes”. Between gasps, she slid the USB towards his general direction to the best of her (already limited) ability, weakly giving a lopsided smirk as if to demonstrate that not all had been lost- after all, the mission was a success, even with an extra casualty.

As if on cue, the commander jogged hurriedly over from his position in the front, now aware of her rapidly fading presence.

“Any more fatalities?” His usually gruff voice was more alarmed, on edge, clenching his fists and thumbing the device - the purpose of their entire mission - as if he was unsure of a way to help.

“J-jus’ one. I hope,” she spluttered, breath shallow.

“Don’t say that.” Jesse’s usually deep and melodious voice had mellowed out into a silvery whisper, muttered quietly under his breath through gritted teeth. His hands were stained red now, sleeves rolled upwards as he gripped the sopping cloth of his repurposed cowl to her stomach.

“Sorry-.” Her words gurgled in her throat before she hissed a string of curses under her breath in recoil.

The cowboy’s eyes flashed upwards to meet the commander’s, brow furrowed, before sinking back down, jaw tight and lips thinned. She wanted to respond with some form of reassurance, but all that she could muster was a shallow exhale. She forcefully opened her drooping lids, eyes glazed and hazy. It was already proving increasingly difficult to keep them open.

“Looks like a gunshot. Gunshots. Can ya breathe okay?”

She gulped, chest heaving.

“Does it look like she can breathe okay?!” McCree’s voice was taut, visibly strained. His arms were tightened, slick with blood up to his forearms, hands visibly shaking. Realizing his outburst, he lowered his voice. “Sorry.”

Reyes nodded in silent understanding. “Ribs are probably broken too. You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get the doc to fix you up in no time. Now what was it that exactly happened?” The commander was unusually talkative, his analytical tone poorly masking his distress.

She tried to summarize the events with as few words as possible. McCree flinched, grimacing and chewing on his lip. He furrowed his brow empathetically, almost as if he felt each blow as she was describing it. Despite the rather traumatic events that had ensued, the retelling had served as a distraction from the pain. What had felt like a blindingly severe throb had weaned into a dull ache - incredibly discomforting, but survivable nonetheless.  
The thudding beats in her chest were beginning to space themselves out further, weakening as if her heart was receding into her ribcage. Her vision was losing saturation, fading in and out of a distorted and gray and darkening blur, voices around her fading into an echo at the back of her mind.


End file.
